All right all right, guys, I'm sorry. Really, I am. I know it's cliché. I'm aware that he dies in a lot of stories but, as I have mentioned, I have had this entire story planned out from the very beginning. It's just the way it goes. Anyhoo, here is the final, yes final, chapter. It's just your basic tying up of loose ends. Also, there's going to be some weird literary devices in this. I'm sorry if this story didn't go the way you all wanted it to, but it turned out exactly the way I wanted it to. Haha. So, once again, I apologize. Plus, I want to thank all of you who took the time to review. Particularly my myspace buddy Leela! You've given me such great feedback and really paid attention to the little details in my story! Thanks, girl! It meant so much to me and I'm glad you enjoyed my story so much. For those of you who are sad to see this one end, you'll be happy to know that a new creation (South Park) is on its way! I hope you all continue reading my stuff and I love you all! Thanks for making such a fun experience for me! Hugs and Kisses!
Making Angels Cry-Stan's POV-
The day of Kyle's funeral was sunny and bright. The snow had begun to melt and it dripped off the plants and trees as precise as a children's nursery rhyme. It irked my mood, but I found the irony refreshing. His days on this Earth were mostly cold and snowy. As soon as he's gone, you could almost call it Spring. But everybody in South Park knew that here, there was no such thing as Spring.
I wasn't going to the service though.
"Stanley, are you sure you won't go? I know it hurts but maybe it'll make you feel a little better … it's a beautiful day and the fresh air couldn't hurt you." Mom asked me, trying to convince me for the tenth time that day.
I was still in my boxers and a Cows t-shirt, sitting in front of the T.V. not really watching anything, just trying to distract myself and put off the truth for a little bit longer. I knew Mom was getting worried about me. She was hopping about, putting her earrings in and getting Shelley and Dad ready to go, all the time, watching me with worried eyes. I knew she was only going to support Kyle's parents.
"I'm sure, Mom. I'm just going to stay here."
Truth be told, I wasn't ready to face Kyle. I couldn't go to his funeral. I couldn't see people crying and hurting. I couldn't go and pretend that I was his faithful, loyal best friend who was by his side the whole time. I felt anything but loyal. I would never forget my final words to him:
My so called best friend.
Nobody would ever understand the hurt I felt. Nobody knew what it was like to watch your best friend die in a dark alley, trying to save another friend. And it was my entire fault. If I hadn't ran out, all this never would've happened. I had gained and lost the love of my life, all in one week. I had never felt more alone with my conscience. It was amazing how things turned out in the end.
But why Kyle?
He never did anything but care for people. He was the sweetest guy I knew and to know that I was the reason he died and I was alone in this fucking world without him, it was, well, hard. Hard to accept the fact that he was really gone. I knew I would have to move on eventually, but I also knew that I would never be quite the same again.
Eli was to complete six months of community service for having ownership of the gun, the other two guys were also set off with light punishments, and as for the asshole that shot Kyle, he was sentenced to four years in Juvenile Hall. The punishment didn't seem harsh enough. He had done more than kill Kyle. He had killed a part of me that I'd never get back.
Mom sat down beside me on the couch and wrapped me in a hug.
"Stanley, we're leaving now. I'm really sorry about Kyle. Do you want me to tell his parents anything for you?"
I swallowed a lump in my throat that was threatening to rise. "Tell them … that I'm really sorry."
She nodded and kissed me gently on the cheek. She got up, digging her car keys out of her purse at the same time.
"Randy! Shelley! We're going. Come on!"
Dad came bounding down the stairs, straightening his tie and Shelley followed behind. As they passed, Dad ruffled my hair and gave me a wink. I forced a small smile and turned back to the T.V.
To my surprise, Shelley came over, sitting down beside me. I could see Mom and Dad watching from the door but Mom nudged him lightly in the stomach and they went outside to start the car.
"Hey, Stan. Um, I'm really sorry about Kyle. He was a nice kid." She said, her voice so low, I could barely hear her.
I was still angry with her. I partly blamed Kyle's death on her. If she hadn't hit me, I would've never gone to Kyle and we never would've kissed. I wasn't afraid to admit she was a lousy sister.
"How much did Mom and Dad pay you to say that?" I asked rudely, not even looking at her.
"Look, Stan. They didn't pay me. I'm just sorry." I could hear a tremor in her voice and it sounded like she was going to cry. Maybe she really did feel bad for all that happened.
"Thanks, Shelley." I didn't know what else to say to her.
She choked up a little and pulled me against her, and for the first time ever, I hugged my own sister. She retreated after a few seconds, giving me a shy smile. Then she reached up and messed my hair slightly, the way Dad did.
"You're a good kid, Turd."
I couldn't help but smile. So this is what it felt like to have a sibling's love. It felt kind of nice.
"Shelley! Come on! We're going to be late!" Mom's voice carries from outside.
She pats me on the knee and walks out of the room. I can hear the door shut behind her and the car drive away down the street.
I'm restless and tired. I hadn't slept well since that night. It happened five days ago and my case of insomnia seemed like it would last forever.
Sighing, I flick off the T.V. and get off the couch. The house is quiet and I can see sunlight pouring in through the window shades, trying to catch my attention. I ignore it and walk over to the fridge.
A picture of Kyle and I stares back at me. It was from last summer. I'm sitting on the fence in our backyard and Kyle's leaning carelessly against it, hands in his pockets. I'm grinning like an idiot and he's looking at me, laughing. It was one of the few pictures where I didn't have a hat on. I needed a haircut.
It brings fresh tears to my eyes and I have to turn away. I lean against the fridge door, closing my eyes, preventing the tears from telling me the truth. He really is gone.
The phone rings, startling me out of my thoughts.
Let it ring.
I didn't need or want to talk to anybody. I was afraid of how real it may seem then.
The shrill ring clatters my mind for a few moments until finally the answering machine clicks on.
'Hello, you've reached the Marshes. We can't come to the phone right now but …'"Hey, Stan. Um, it's Wendy. I just wanted to see how you were doing …"
I listen curiously and wait as she pauses.
" … I'm so sorry about Kyle. He didn't deserve that." She takes a deep wavering breath and continues.
"I don't know how you're dealing with this, but I just want you to know that I'm always here if you need to talk. Take care, Stan. Umm, bye."
The machine clicks off and I delete the message. I know she'll be at the funeral.
I suddenly wonder if Madison is going. I wonder how she's taking it. And then I feel horrible because I realize how happy I am. If I can't have Kyle, no one can. The only interest Madison and I ever shared and it had to be her boyfriend.
I trudge up the stairs and into my room, dropping onto the bed. I let sleep take me into her grasp and my dreams are filled with sweet images of darkness.
-------------------------------------
The next few days are calm and peaceful. Everyone seems to have no trouble getting back into normal routine. Mom is careful to make sure that Kyle is not mentioned to me and I appreciate it. She's babying me but for once, I like it. I like the feeling that I don't need to watch out for myself. I felt that I betrayed him by not going to the funeral but I just couldn't do it.
Kenny and Cartman had come by to visit twice. Cartman was unusually quiet and didn't start any fights. It was hard to believe he actually cared. Kenny was his normal self; giving us some much needed sympathy. I was glad to have them both. I had never appreciated their friendship so much. Kenny was curious as to why I didn't come to the funeral but when I explained, he nodded understandingly.
It's a few weeks after the funeral when I get a call from Kyle's Mom.
"Hello, Stanley. It's Kyle's Mother."
"Oh, um, Hi. H-how are you?"
There's a pause on the other line and I can hear her breathing steadily. I wonder if she's thinking about Kyle.
"I'm okay, dear. How are you?"
Horrible. Suicidal. Heartbroken. But I respond, "I'm fine."
"That's nice to hear. Listen, since Kyle obviously wasn't quite old enough to be thinking about leaving a will and considering you were his best friend, I think it's only right that you come over and take what you want of his. If you want, I mean. I'm sure he would've wanted you to take some of his things, anyway."
I nod and forget that she can't see me.
"Uh, sure. That'd be good. When should I come over?"
"Anytime today if you'd like. We'll be here all day. Or anytime next week. Whatever's good for you, dear."
I get the details, thank her and hang up. How am I ever going to get the courage to go into his room? We shared the kiss in there. I can't do it. But I have to.
I let you down so many times, Kyle. But I won't today.
--------------------------------------
Walking down Kyle's street later that night, I am filled with a familiar longing. The sun is just beginning to set and I can see a few stars starting to take their place in the colored sky. I can see a sliver of the moon shining down on South Park.
For a minute, I feel like I am in a desert. A hot, dry desert all by myself. No one is around and I'm alone with the sand, making sweet talk with the setting sun. The wind is howling its dry, raspy breath and I can feel it comb through my tangled hair. The air is hot and it weighs me down with comforting warmth.
Back in South Park, I'm at Kyle's door. It's the same as it always has been. The house is relatively big but nothing special. Yet, it feels different to me. It feels like I shouldn't be here. I'm the reason Sheila lost her precious boy. I'm the reason Gerald lost his son. I'm the reason Ike lost his big brother. Still, I ring the doorbell.
"Stanley! So nice to see you!" Mrs. Broflovski welcomes me in, giving me a quick hug.
I manage a smile and try to ignore the feeling in the pit of my stomach that is my constant reminder of Kyle.
"Do you want anything to eat? Drink? Nothing?" I shake my head to all these.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Broflovski. I've got to be home for dinner soon, anyways. But thank you." She smiles fondly at me.
"It's no problem at all, dear. Come upstairs and I'll leave you to get what you want."
The house gives off the feeling that everything is all better. There is no more hurt here. Everything's peachy. I get the feeling, though, that the Broflovski family wants everything to be okay so badly that they're willing to lie to the outside world.
Ike's playing video games and more or less ignores me as I walk by. Mr. Broflovski is reading the newspaper at the kitchen table and offers me a small smile before turning back to it.
I follow her and as we get closer to Kyle's room, I feel my heart begin to sink. I can't go through his room. I can't take his things. What was I ever thinking?
"Well, here you go, Stanley. I'll be downstairs if you need me."
I thank her and wait until she's gone before I look at the room before me.
Kyle's room was always neat and tidy and I see it in a grayish setting, as the sunset pours in through the window. Posters are plastered all over the wall. I see a stack of CD's overlapping each other on the floor beside his desk. The computer screen is blank and there's a few car magazines tossed carelessly beside it.
I smile as I think about Kyle. He always was the one to break a typical teenager stereotype. No messy room for him.
I sit down in his desk chair and spin around in it, absentmindedly. Where can I start? What do I take? I feel intrusive.
I see his bookshelf against the wall on the other side of the room. It's filled with various books and novels. I can see Kyle's collection of Shakespeare and can't help but smirk. As cool as Kyle was, he had always been a nerd. I begin shifting through the books and pull out a paperback novel. There's some muscle bound guy on the front, cradling a maiden in his arms.
A Romance novel?
Since when did Kyle read Romances? I almost laugh as I begin to shove it back into the shelf. A piece of paper flutters out of some of the pages and floats safely to the ground. It must have been a bookmark.
Picking it up, I see that it has writing on it. I analyze it as Kyle's handwriting. It looks to have been written in a hurry and I can't help but find myself reading it.
I suppose it's stupid to be writing this, but I don't know who else I can confide to. I know Cartman would have so much fun ragging on me if he ever found this out, which is why I will be hiding it in a Romance novel where nobody will ever look. Stan and I kissed tonight. Well, I kissed him. I've been wanting to do it for so long. He pulled back and left in a hurry. I think I scared him off. I didn't mean to. Lately, I've been looking at him differently. Not only as my best friend, but also as something more. Out of all the people, he's stuck by my side the most throughout these years. He waited on me hand and foot while I was in the hospital and I know he'd never admit it, but he's failing some of his classes in order to spend time with me. I don't want him to fail but I don't know if I will ever be able to thank him enough. I told him I loved him tonight. I hope he knows just how much I care for him. He's made such a difference in my life and I hope that him and I will be friends forever. Even if I'm with Madison, Stan will always be the one I save first place for. I wonder if this means I'm gay. But what does it really matter what sex you take interest in as long as it's true to your heart?
My heart's pounding and I watch as ink smudges down in streaks on the paper as tears fall from me. He loved me. He loved me. He noticed what I did for him. I'm sorry, Kyle. I'm so sorry.
I quickly fold the paper and pocket it, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. I have all the things I could ever want from Kyle Broflovski resting in my pocket. I get up from where I had been sitting on the floor and leave the room. I walk past Ike's room and see Mr. Broflovski cradling him in his arms and letting the small boy sob in his arms, while resting his head on Ike's and letting the tears come. I continue down the hall and see Mrs. Broflovski staring out the window in her bedroom, arms wrapped around herself, and I swear I can see her crying.
Maybe I'm not the only one who isn't okay.
I open the door and a warm wind greets me. My desert is my welcome mat.
Walking down the street, the moon gives me guidance and I say to myself, "Maybe we'll be okay, after all. Maybe I'll be okay."
And up there, beyond the stars, above the moon, into the depth of eternity, I know Kyle's listening.
-End-